Date Single Millionaires in Your Area! a fic
by HYPERFocused
Summary: Ryan doesn't need spam to know a good idea when he sees one. Slash SethRyan


Title: Date Single Millionaires in Your Area (Yes, this is a fic)  
  
Author: HYPERFocused  
  
Fandom: The O.C  
  
Pairing: Seth/Ryan  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own either of these boys, or their Cliff's Notes.  
  
A/N Written for the Contrelamontre 'Regret' challenge using the full hour. Also intended to be part of my multi fandom "Spam Series" (because junk mail ought to be good for something, why not as plot bunnies?)  
  
  
  
It's a Sunday night, and Ryan is sitting at his laptop, trying to make sense of that week's history assignment, and catch up on email. There are four goofy messages from Seth (who has been known to email or IM him from his room to the pool house), some inspirational soccer quotes Sandy sent from the office, and an unwelcome note from Trey, who only ever asks for money. "Family should help each other, bro."  
  
"Yeah, right into jail." Ryan says, and then laughs at himself for talking aloud to the computer like Seth would do.  
  
He deletes the handful of spam that manages to get past his ISP's blocker. He doesn't need anyone investigated, a free vacation, or anything made bigger.  
  
  
  
Seth comes in asking if he wants to study together. He's got an armload of books, just in case they actually do some studying. Ryan is glad for the interruption.  
  
Casual attitude aside, neither of them is fooling the other. They are, however, fooling around. Ryan has been looking forward to this all week. He really likes touching Seth. The long, lean line of Seth's brightly colored t-shirts and artfully faded jeans hides a body that's deceptively well put together.  
  
Seth drops the books on the floor as Ryan kisses him, and then pushes him onto the bed, shoving the grass green t-shirt up until Seth's hands are caught above his head.  
  
"Good, now don't squirm," he says, lips tracing a trail from Seth's jaw down the corded line of his neck, stopping to use his tongue at the point on his throat where the T-shirts usually ended.  
  
"Right. No squirming. I can do that," Seth gasps, as Ryan moves slowly down his body. But by the time Ryan's lips are poised just above Seth's waistband, he's practically writhing with anticipation. "Fuck, no. No, I can't."  
  
It's ok. They've done this before. They almost have a routine going. Two best friends who aren't quite brothers. A little comfort in the night, a little fun in the afternoon. Seth still takes Anna to the Homecoming Dance. Ryan offers himself to Marissa whenever Luke shows his true colors and treats her like crap. This thing between them is just experimentation. Sometimes teenagers do stuff. At least that's what he tells Kirsten and Sandy when they walk in on them, coming home early because Kirsten has had as much of Rachel as she can stand. There are truths he doesn't even tell himself. It's easier that way.   
  
Sandy and Kirsten are expected to be at the dinner for his new firm for another few hours. Long enough for Seth and Ryan to shower and clean up, and be back to "Survey of Europe in World War Two" or 'Calc301 before anyone's the wiser.   
  
Too late, Ryan remembers not locking the pool house door behind them. It flies open just when he's standing, wiping his mouth.  
  
"Are you boys all r-" Sandy starts.  
  
"We heard yelling." Kirsten adds. There's a mortifying silence, and then he tries to talk. Doesn't know quite what to say , there's no way to hide what they were doing. This never happened in Chino. No one would have been sober enough to notice there.  
  
"You know how it is," he says, putting on his best "Seth and I are great pals" voice. He's not sure Sandy does, but maybe. "It doesn't mean - Seth's not - We were just ---" He's babbling now, almost like Seth would, except Seth just raced to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Ryan can faintly hear the repeated words "Oh fuck, oh fuck" coming from behind the mirror. Those two words sounded a lot better when Seth said them moments earlier, while Ryan was on his knees with his mouth around Seth's dick.  
  
"Yes, son, we see what you were just…" Sandy's voice is sardonic. Ryan notes the use of the derivative, and he isn't sure whether to be worried or relieved. Apparently they don't hate him - yet.  
  
"Seth, come on out of there. We need to talk about this." Kirsten says.  
  
"No, I think I'll stay right here until graduation, if it's all the same to you, Mom."  
  
"No, it isn't. Besides, I'm pretty sure Ryan's going to want to use the bathroom sometime. And you both have school tomorrow. Your father and I will see you both in the kitchen in fifteen minutes." She and Sandy walk out of the room, and Ryan is left watching the bathroom door.   
  
"Seth, please."  
  
nothing  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
Water running  
  
"I can't go up there alone."  
  
unintelligible grumble  
  
"Seth, I'm sorry. I'll tell them it was all my idea." He doesn't know what else to say.  
  
"Yeah, that'll make me look good. Like I can't even hold my own against the guy who's supposed to be my best friend in the world Like I can't even make up my own mind.".   
  
"Well, shit Seth. What do you want me to say? That I hate seeing Summer leading you around by the balls? That I'm sick to death of Marissa and her on again off again Luke thing?" Ryan says what he can't say to Seth's face. "That I don't want another brother? I've got one already, and I wish I didn't. He isn't worth half of you. I should tell them I love you?"  
  
The door opens.  
  
Ryan watches as Seth opens and closes his mouth like the goldfish he'd won at the fair. The wide grin spreads across Seth's face like yellow paint across one of Genevieve's kitchen walls on the home improvement show nobody knows he and Kirsten sometimes watch together.  
  
"Yes. That's exactly what I want you to tell them. It's what I've wanted ever since I stopped picturing Summer on that trip to Tahiti, and started seeing you."  
  
"They'll freak. They'll probably kick me out for corrupting you."  
  
"Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they would have freaked already."  
  
"Yeah, that could have been worse. No one dragged me out bodily, or went for a gun."  
  
"In this house? I don't even think my dad has a staple gun."  
  
"Well, I don't want to find out. We'd better go face the music." Ryan reaches out a hand and pulls Seth up from the futon where he'd plopped himself down after Ryan's little speech. Seth's "It's all cool" bravado aside, Ryan can tell he's nervous. Seth's palm is damp, and there's a fluttering under his skin that's different from his usual energetic buzz. Ryan grips tighter, then kisses him quickly.   
  
They both let go when they approach the main house, but Seth shoots him what tries to be a reassuring look and says "We're cool, dude. Right?"  
  
Sandy is sitting at the kitchen table, and Kirsten is pouring coffee when they walk in. She hands them each a cup, and says, "Sit."  
  
He does, and Seth plants himself in his usual place next to him. No one says anything for a moment. He stares into his mug like the swirling milk will tell him what to do.  
  
"Which one of you boys wants to tell us what exactly happened here?" Kirsten starts.  
  
"I would have thought that was obvious," Seth mumbles, then adds "It's none of your business" in his "I said it, but I don't want you to hear it" voice.  
  
"You're our son, you're a minor, and you were having sex in our house. Of course it's our business"  
  
"Not only that, you were doing it behind our backs, with someone we've taken in like a second son. There are emotional issues here. You can't just play around like it doesn't mean anything." Kirsten continues.  
  
"We weren't..." Ryan says.  
  
"Ryan, we saw you. You aren't going to deny that, are you?" Sandy asks, incredulously.  
  
"I meant we weren't playing around. I lied, I'm sorry. I just figured you'd be happier if we were experimenting."  
  
"Confused." Seth chimes in.  
  
"You're sixteen. You could still be confused." Kirsten says  
  
"We're sixteen, not six. You knew at sixteen, didn't you? Mom, you were dating Jimmy then,"  
  
"I see your point," Kirsten says.  
  
"What about Marissa? Or Summer?"  
  
"Marissa and I are better as friends. With Seth it's just different. Special. More. I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear. I can pack up my stuff right away, but I can't help how I feel." Ryan finds Seth's hand under the table and squeezes.  
  
"No!" Seth pleads with his parents. "You wouldn't make him do that."  
  
"Nobody said anything about leaving. You're a part of our family now." Kirsten confirms.  
  
"We just didn't anticipate it working out quite this way." Sandy adds.  
  
"It wasn't a complete surprise that someday Seth might bring home a guy instead of a girl,: Kirsten admitted. "We just thought it would be after you went off to college. We didn't know it would be you, Ryan."  
  
"It isn't the worst news we could hear. It's just going to take some time to work out. And there will have to be rules laid out if we're going to let you be together."  
  
"We didn't think to worry about the two of you getting in trouble here at home."  
  
"Jeez, Mom."  
  
"I'd never hurt Seth," Ryan says."  
  
"Oh, honey, we know you wouldn't. If that was even a concern, we'd be having a different conversation entirely." Kirsten got up and put her arms around him, pulling him closer as he flinched a little. "Nobody's hugged you near enough, have they, sweetheart?"  
  
Mom!" Seth interjected. "Dad, tell her Ryan's a guy."  
  
"I think she knows that, Sport."  
  
"So, can we go now? I don't think either of us can take any more soap opera revelations," Seth asks. "And we really do have studying to do."  
  
"All right, but there had better be actual schoolwork going on. We could walk in at any moment."  
  
"Yes, Ma'am." Ryan says. He's not going to take any chances. He's so damn lucky neither Kirsten or Sandy is the type to kick the shit out of him.  
  
Back in the pool house, with their textbooks open to that week's chapter, Ryan notices the laptop still connected. They'd moved it from the bed to the side table when it became clear studying was over for the while, but they'd forgotten to turn it off. He clicks the "List New Mail" button, and a new message pops up.  
  
"Date single millionaires in your area!!!" Hmm. Seth's trust fund won't kick in for another five years or so, and Ryan wouldn't care if he had five dollars or five million. But yeah, that sounded good to him. He wouldn't even need the dating service. 


End file.
